


and never ever watch the ten o'clock news

by homelywenchsociety



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Psych Fusion, Case Fic, Childhood Friends, F/M, Fake Psychic Abilities, Gen, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Psychic Abilities, pop culture references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 08:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13290672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homelywenchsociety/pseuds/homelywenchsociety
Summary: Bodhi never expected to be sitting in an interrogation room with his best friend while she lied to the police about being a psychic. In retrospect, he probably should have.[AKA the Psych AU Literally No One Asked For]





	and never ever watch the ten o'clock news

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CrimsonPetrichor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonPetrichor/gifts).



> This is based roughly on the pilot episode of Psych, but I don't think you have to know the show to follow this story. I also couldn't rewatch the pilot while writing it because Netflix and Hulu are conspiring against me by not streaming the show anymore. I did the best I could with my memory and the wikipedia article, while also not being super concerned about getting the details of the case just right.
> 
> A incomplete but relevant list of things I know nothing about: Police procedure, medicine, California, British football clubs, the city of Miami, and motorcycle repair. I apologize if I've done a poor job of representing any or all of those topics.
> 
> Also, towards the end, there's some talk of murder and suicide as it pertains to a case. It's pretty brief, not graphic whatsoever, and does not involve any of the actual characters, but if that stuff bothers you in any way, here's your heads up that it's there.
> 
> Title is from Regina Spektor.

“I need you to drive me to the police station.”

 

Bodhi, to his eternal embarrassment, actually pulls the phone away from his face and stares at it in disbelief, despite the fact that he’s alone in his office and no one is around to appreciate what he assumes is some excellent physical comedy.

 

“Pardon?” he asks, after a moment.

 

Jyn sighs on the other end of the phone. “I need you to drive me to the police station. Please,” she adds as an afterthought.

 

“Doesn’t that honor belong to the cop who’s arresting you?”

 

“Very funny,” Jyn says flatly. “My bike won’t start, will you please drive me?”

 

“You’re still not telling me the most important part,” Bodhi says, already starting to feel his exasperation growing. “Why do you need to go to the police station? Did something happen?”

 

“Something is always happening, Bodhi. Something is happening right now. And right now. And also now--”

 

“Jyn, come on...”

 

“Okay, fine. You remember that thing we talked about? The one you said I shouldn’t do anymore?”

 

“I told you to stop wearing white after Labor Day, advice which you have consistently ignored…”

 

“I keep telling you, Labor Day is a holiday invented by greeting card corporations to sell product!”

 

“All those Labor Day cards that everyone buys and sends out to their loved ones,” Bodhi says, playing along with Jyn’s nonsense.

 

“Exactly!” Jyn practically shouts. “Also, if you think about it, it’s always after Labor Day. You know what I mean?”

 

“I don’t. Did you get fined for committing a crime of fashion? Is that why you have to go the police station?”

 

“No, it has to do with the other thing you told me to stop doing.”

 

“Do I really have to guess? I tell you to stop doing a lot of things,” Bodhi says. His initial worry has already subsided and he’s tired of this conversation. He needs Jyn to tell him what’s going on so he can get back to work.

 

“Bodhi, don’t be the dollar sign in Ke$ha’s name!” she says, clearly frustrated with him as well.

 

“She got rid of that, you know. It’s just an ‘s’ now.”

 

“Precisely.”

 

“Jyn, honestly…”

 

“I called in another tip to the police,” Jyn says, suddenly giving up the game. “And before you get upset, that one tip helped them solve, like, ten open armed robbery cases.  So now the chief of police wants me to come down and they’re gonna give me a check, or an award, or something. I can't remember what it was, I wasn't listening. What’s a purple heart for?”

 

“Injured in battle.”

 

“Okay, so maybe not that. Whatever. It’s a big deal. The queen will probably be there.”

 

“Jyn, we live in America. There is no queen here,” Bodhi says, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

 

“Agree to disagree. What do you say? Will you take me?”

 

“I…” Bodhi begins to say before something occurs to him. “Wait a minute. You told me you were calling in those tips anonymously.”

 

“I was.”

 

“So how could they give you a reward, if they don’t even know who you are?” He asks.

 

“Okay, so,” Jyn begins to say in her best bullshitting voice. It's one that Bodhi is very familiar with. “I might have made a very tiny, laughably insignificant mistake when I called in this particular tip.”

 

“You told them your name,” Bodhi supplies.

 

“In my defense, I was a little drunk and I really wanted to impress this girl I was on a date with.”

 

“Neither of those are good excuses!”

 

“If it makes you feel better, my date wasn’t pleased either,” Jyn admits. “She was actually kind of insulted that I was paying so much attention to the news when we were making out.”

 

“As she should be.”

 

“You know I can’t help it! It’s just the way my brain works!”

 

“You’re telling me you actually picked up your clue just from the news?” Bodhi asks. “That’s honestly kind of impressive.”

 

“Tell that to her! She stormed off before I could tell her my whole ‘eidetic memory, trained in observation by my tough cop mother’ tragic backstory,” Jyn says.

 

“Great. What restaurant are we not going to be able to get a table at from now on?”

 

“She’s the hostess at Cilantro, that tiny place on Elm.”

 

“They have the best brunch in the city, Jyn!”

 

“Yeah. It’s a real loss,” Jyn agrees. “So, you’ll come get me on your lunch?”

 

***

 

The first time Bodhi spoke to Jyn was in fourth grade and he and his family had just moved to the country for his dad’s job.  He was a scrawny, brown kid with a funny accent and, to make it worse, he transferred right in the middle of the year. All the kids in his class had already made their friends and they thought he was weird. Everyone except Jyn.

 

She’d dropped her lunch tray on the table across from him on his first day and said, without preamble, “I like your voice, it sounds like mine. Also, your watch is cool. Have you seen the movie  _ Flubber _ ? It’s my favorite.”

 

And just like that they were friends. Looking back on it, Bodhi’s not sure he ever really had a choice. Jyn had decided she liked him, and once she liked someone, that was it. They belonged to her.  She was always between him and the meanest kids in school, distracting them, talking in circles until they gave up and left her best friend alone.  You couldn’t mess with Jyn; she had something clever or weird to say to any of your threats or insults and she never cared what other people thought of her.  That, and the fact that her mom was a cop and everyone knew it, meant that people generally left her--and, by extension, Bodhi--alone.

 

After high school, they went their separate ways: Bodhi went to college to try to make something of himself and Jyn left Santa Barbara on her motorcycle to get away from her mother and see the world.  She sent postcards from every new city she landed in, and the two of them kept in touch even as Bodhi started working as a pharmaceuticals sales rep and Jyn continued to work whatever odd jobs she could find in whatever part of the country she was living in at that moment. In complete defiance of logic and the predictions of their families, the two of them stayed close despite the distance and their wildly different lifestyles. Still, no one was more surprised than Bodhi when Jyn reappeared in Santa Barbara.

 

He has tried in ways both subtle and obvious to get Jyn to tell him what made her come home, but with no success.  Bodhi assumes it had something to do with her mother retiring and moving to Miami, but he doesn’t think that’s the whole reason.  He’d worry about her, but Jyn seems the same as ever.  She’s got the same mercurial temper--upbeat and joking one minute, put out and snarky the next--and she still flirts with every waitress, bartender, and barista they come across.  Which, of course, means there are several fine establishments in Santa Barbara that Bodhi can no longer visit without someone asking about when his cute friend is going to call them back, or just telling him off in Jyn’s place.

 

The only thing different about Jyn is her newfound obsession with calling in anonymous tips to the police.  She’s always been highly observant, but Bodhi has never seen her so preoccupied with using her skills to help people.  He told her to be careful about it and he actually thought she would listen, given her distaste for the police, but, instead, he finds himself walking up the steps of the Santa Barbara Police Station with Jyn during his lunch hour to collect her reward.

 

Once they’re inside, Jyn goes to the desk to let the officer there know that she’s arrived and Bodhi takes a seat on one of the benches in the lobby.  Within seconds, another officer drops off an enormous man in handcuffs, depositing him on the bench next to Bodhi with a muttered, “Wait here!” and then departing.  Now, Bodhi’s come a long way from his terrified, scrawny, fourth grade self, but he is also, in no way, shape, or form, an intimidating person, so he does his best not to make eye contact.

 

After a few minutes, Jyn joins Bodhi and, as is her custom, puts herself directly between him and danger, this time in the form of their large, handcuffed companion. “What are you in for?” Jyn asks pleasantly. Bodhi elbows her in the ribs.

 

“They say I jacked my ex-wife’s car, but I’m innocent!” the man shouts.

 

“Ugh, cops, am I right?” Jyn says, in a tone that sounds more like they’re at happy hour than a police precinct. The man grunts in agreement and the conversation seems to be over, until Jyn adds, more quietly, “Hey, I don’t want to sound like I don’t believe you--because I totally do--but, if I were you, I’d brush that broken glass off your sleeve. To the untrained eye, it looks like maybe you broke a window or something.”

 

The man glances at Jyn and then at his sleeve, before sweeping his hand over the latter. The same officer from before returns to collect him as soon as he’s finished. 

 

“Thanks,” the man says gruffly as he stands up and then winks at her over his shoulder as he’s lead away.

 

“No problem,” Jyn says and turns to Bodhi, at whom she rolls her eyes. “Idiot,” she adds, under her breath. “He just knocked all the glass into his boot.”

 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Bodhi says, keeping his voice low.

 

“I know. What’s the point of helping criminals if they’re too incompetent to help themselves?”

 

“That’s obviously not what I meant,” Bodhi huffs. “Did they tell you how long this was going to take?”

 

“They said someone would be with me shortly. Please, try to relax.”

 

“They can’t just give you a check? It has to be a whole production?”

 

“Bodhi, don’t be the Brave Little Toaster’s less brave little cousin!”

 

“I just have a bad feeling about this,” Bodhi says, ignoring her.

 

“Noted. Now, be quiet and I  _ might _ let you be in the picture with me, the mayor, and what I hope is one of those giant novelty checks,” Jyn says.

 

“I do love giant novelty checks,” Bodhi admits.

 

“You know that’s right,” Jyn says, and offers her fist for him to bump.

 

At that moment, another cop appears in front of them. “Jyn Erso?” he asks, sounding uninterested in a response.

 

Jyn stands up to greet him. “That’s me. And this is my associate, DJ Deathstar,” she says, motioning at Bodhi, who just rolls his eyes at her. Jyn’s been making up fake names for him since they were kids and it’s probably better the police don’t know his actual name anyway.

 

The officer looks perplexed but all he does is nod and say, “If both of you would follow me,” before leading them out of the lobby and through the bullpen.

 

They go through a door at the far side of the room, which leads them to a long cinderblock hallway with several doors on either side.  The officer opens the last one on the right, and motions for them to go in ahead of him.  Once Bodhi and Jyn have both crossed the threshold, he closes the door behind them suddenly and they both turn in surprise.

 

All at once, Bodhi realizes where they are.

 

“Shit,” he says, taking in the bleak room with the large table in the middle and the mirror on the wall. “Why are we in an interrogation room?” he asks Jyn.

 

Jyn, for her part, is glaring at the other figures in the room.  Seated at the table are two more cops, but they’re in plain clothes, which must mean they’re detectives. They stand as soon as Bodhi speaks. 

 

“Why don’t you both take a seat?” the shorter of the two of them says.  He’s soft spoken with a slight accent and he looks absolutely exhausted.

 

Bodhi nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels Jyn’s hand on his elbow.  When he looks over, she gives him a reassuring smile. If he didn't know her as well as he does, he could totally miss the anger behind that smile, but they've been friends for twenty years and he’s perfected the art of reading Jyn’s moods. These detectives have no idea what they've gotten themselves into. She cocks her head towards the chairs in invitation and he gets the message loud and clear without her saying anything.  _ Do what they tell you and let me do the talking _ .

 

“They didn’t mention anything on the phone about a vetting process before they gave me the key to the city,” Jyn says, nice and light, once she and Bodhi have sat down on the other side of the table.

 

“You are not getting a key to the city, Miss Erso,” the other cop says, his tone clipped.  He has an expressionless face and is frankly too tall to be an actual human being, as far as Bodhi is concerned.

 

“No…?” Jyn asks innocently.

 

“No,” he says, sounding even less amused than before.

 

“Listen, Mr. ...?” 

 

“Detective,” he corrects. “Head Detective Kay Tuesso.”

 

“Your mother must be very proud,” Jyn says, and Bodhi has to hold back a snort. “And who’s this?” she asks, her eyes training on the other detective.

 

“My partner, Detective Andor,” Detective Tuesso says, obviously growing impatient with Jyn’s antics.

 

“Charmed,” Jyn says and actually extends her hand for Detective Andor to shake. He gives her a puzzled look in return.

 

Nonplussed by any of the annoyance she seems to be causing, Jyn pulls her hand back and leans forward conspiratorially on the table.  “Now that we’re all on such friendly terms, why don’t you tell me what exactly is going on?” she asks.

 

“I’m sorry, Miss Erso,” Detective Andor says, “but we’re not all acquainted. Who is this?” he asks, gesturing at Bodhi.

 

Jyn turns and gives Bodhi a searching look.  For his part, Bodhi would rather not tell the police his name, given he has no idea what sort of trouble Jyn has unintentionally mixed herself up in, but he’s pretty sure they can figure it out who he is whether she tells them or not. He knows better than to actually shrug at her, when everything about her demeanor is screaming  _ be careful _ at him, so he just looks back at her as calmly as he can. They’ve been in enough crazy situations together over the years that he trusts her to get them out of this one.  He sees her small smile of comprehension before she turns back to the detectives.

 

“This is Bodhi,” she says evenly. “He drove me here.”

 

“What, like a Lyft driver?” Detective Andor asks.

 

“Yes!” Jyn replies, snapping her fingers like they're all just brainstorming together and she loves what the detectives are bringing to the table. Which, knowing Jyn, might be what she actually thinks.

 

“And you brought him in with you because…?”

 

“I'm just quirky, I guess,” Jyn says with an easy shrug and barrels on before the detectives can question her any further on Bodhi’s presence. “Now that we’re finally  _ all  _ acquainted, can you get to the point? The meter’s running.”

 

Neither of the detectives look particularly convinced by any of this, but Detective Andor continues anyway. “You recently called in a tip about several armed robberies that occurred in the last few weeks. Is that correct?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Well, thanks to that information you gave us, we’ve apprehended a suspect.”

 

“Good for you,” Jyn says, with forced cheer. Bodhi can practically see her patience wearing thin before his eyes.

 

“I'm glad you feel that way,” Detective Andor replies, tightly, and Bodhi thinks that Jyn probably isn't the only one who's running out of patience. “But, you see, we have a problem.  Our suspect claims he had a partner, somebody who masterminded the whole thing, and he’ll only tell us their name if we give him immunity.”

 

“Huh. That’s a real pickle,” Jyn says, flatly, as if the subject doesn't interest her at all.

 

“As you can imagine, we don't want to give in to our suspect’s demands, not when we can just arrest both of the people responsible,” Detective Andor continues, adopting a tone one would normally use when explaining a difficult subject to a child. “So, we’re trying to figure out who this accomplice is on our own. And that's why we’ve brought you here today.”

 

There's a full minute where Jyn just blinks at the detectives in confusion and Bodhi starts to worry that she's actually stopped functioning. He's about to grab her by the shoulder and shake her out of it when she blurts out, “I'm sorry, just so we’re clear, you want me to figure out the guy’s accomplice too?”  When they say nothing in response, Jyn continues, disbelieving, “I'm just curious, when do you two start chipping in?”

 

The detectives exchange a look at that, and Bodhi suddenly understands what is going on.

 

“Jyn,” he says as a warning.

 

“What?” Jyn snaps, turning on him.

 

Bodhi heaves a deep sigh before speaking. “They think you did it,” he says.

 

“I--” Jyn begins to say before turning to look at the detectives.  She must see the same thing in their faces that Bodhi did, because she suddenly freezes. “You think I'm the accomplice?” she asks, incredulity and anger making her voice go quiet.

 

The scariest thing about Jyn, in Bodhi’s opinion, is how calm she gets when she's really and truly angry.  The detectives in front of them might be well trained in reading people and analyzing evidence, but he's pretty sure they are in no way prepared for Jyn when she's actually furious.

 

“The evidence you gave to our tip line could only have come from someone with inside knowledge of the crimes,” Detective Tuesso says.

 

“That is  _ not _ true.”

 

“What other explanation is there?” Detective Andor asks, sounding at least open to the possibility.

 

“Maybe I'm just a better detective than you are,” Jyn says, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest, her tone casual but filled with malice. Bodhi does his best not to wince.

 

“Or, perhaps,” Detective Tuesso begins, “you realized your good luck was running out, that you and your partner would not be able to evade the police forever, and you decided it was time to cut your losses and turn him in.”

 

“And gave my name to an anonymous tip line while I was at it, just in the interest of fairness,” Jyn says, mockingly.  “Oh, and I also trusted that my partner--who I had just betrayed--wouldn't rat me out to the police!  You're right, I'm a criminal mastermind!”

 

“Jyn,” Bodhi says again, hoping she’ll actually heed the warning in his voice this time.

 

“You aren't offering us any other plausible explanations for your having such detailed information, Miss Erso,” Detective Andor says. “And if you can't do that, we’ll have to arrest you.”

 

It might just be that the precarious nature of their situation puts Bodhi in a dramatic mood, but he swears, in that moment in the interrogation room, that time actually stops, allowing him to see the exact second that Jyn comes up with a plan. There’s no mistaking the expression that comes over her face for anything other than pure, mischievous inspiration.

 

“Alright, alright, you got me!” Jyn says, and Bodhi thinks he might actually be having a heart attack. “I haven't been honest with you. But it's only because I--” Jyn breaks off and looks downward, the picture of innocence. “I didn't think you'd believe the truth.”

 

“And what exactly would that be?” Detective Tuesso asks, not looking convinced in the slightest.

 

“I'm psychic,” Jyn says and, yep, Bodhi is definitely having a heart attack. “I have the Gift. The Sight, if you will.  _ That’s _ how I knew about those robberies. I saw them, with my third eye.”

 

The entire room seems to be holding its breath after Jyn’s “confession”.  No one seems to know what to do with themselves and Bodhi doesn't dare to even look at Jyn. He’s pretty sure if he so much as exhales, all hell will actually break loose.

 

The two detectives, recovering from their shock, both move at the exact same time.  Detective Tuesso stands abruptly and says, “If you're done wasting our time--”, while Detective Andor reaches across the table for the case file and says, “You mean to tell us--” before they're both interrupted.

 

Jyn, in a split second, leans forward and captures Detective Andor’s wrist in her hand.  She closes her eyes, as if trying to remember some long lost memory, and takes a deep breath. When she's finished, she looks Detective Andor directly in the eye and says, “You have to stop blaming yourself.  It wasn't your fault.”

 

“Excuse me?” He says, utterly bewildered.

 

“I hear screaming. Sirens,” Jyn says, waving her hands around her head in a way that Bodhi imagines is supposed to convey spirituality. “I smell...gunpowder? There was a shooting. You did...everything you could. Everything by the book.” Jyn pauses, then adds, “As always.”

 

Detective Andor looks petrified by this outburst. “How did you--” he begins to ask, his voice even quieter than usual.

 

“As I've told you, I have...abilities. Of the supernatural variety,” Jyn says. She seems to realize she's still holding his wrist and looks at it intently. “This is your first case back on active duty, am I correct?”

 

“Don't answer that,” Detective Tuesso cuts in.

 

Detective Andor looks at his partner like he had completely forgotten there was anyone else in the room, then looks back at Jyn.  He pulls his arm away from her like he's been scalded.  Jyn, for her part, looks back at him serenely.

 

“This is highly entertaining, Miss Erso,” Detective Tuesso begins to say, “but this proves absolutely nothing.  And moreover--”

 

“Ah, fuck!” Jyn yells, squeezing her eyes shut and rubbing her temples, as though she's got the world’s worst brain freeze. “That feels like…glass.  Broken glass. I can see it shattering. And there's a tall man there. He's very angry, and heartbroken. A lover’s spat, perhaps?”

 

“What are you--”

 

“Yes, definitely, an argument between lovers.  I see...a heart…and an arrow...and the letter S.  Does this mean anything to you?” 

 

When the detectives say nothing in response, Jyn winces again. “Yes, of course. I see it clearly now. You have a man in custody here, about this tall,” Jyn says, gesturing well above both her and Bodhi’s heads. “The answers you seek are in his left boot.”

 

Both of the detectives are staring at her, completely mystified, and Detective Tuesso looks like he's about to make another attempt at bringing Jyn to order when there's three taps in quick succession on the one-way mirror. 

 

“Excuse us a moment,” Detective Tuesso says, looking none too pleased with the interruption. “Come on,” he  says to his partner, who seems to be having more trouble tearing himself away.

 

They both depart, leaving Jyn and Bodhi alone in the interrogation room.  This would be a wonderful moment to confront Jyn about  _ what the hell she thinks she's doing _ but unfortunately, they're not actually alone. 

 

“I can hear you thinking from here,” Jyn says quietly.

 

“We’re not talking about this now. We can't,” Bodhi whispers urgently.

 

“I need you to relax,” Jyn responds. “Everything is fine, as far as you and I are concerned. Just, trust me. When have I ever lead you wrong?”

 

“Would you like that list in chronological order?”

 

Jyn makes a  _ tsk  _ sound in the back of her throat. “You can suck it,” she says petulantly.

 

“You suck it,” Bodhi fires back.

 

“No, you.”

 

“ _ You. _ ”

 

He and Jyn actually look at each other after that. “Suck it,” they both sing-song in harmony, like they're still teenagers and not the full-grown adults they're supposed to be acting like. Maybe there are worse people to be stuck in an interrogation room with, Bodhi thinks, at the exact moment Detectives Tuesso and Andor return.

 

“You're free to go,” Detective Tuesso says, looking pained.

 

Jyn rises immediately, grabbing Bodhi’s elbow to drag him up with her as she goes and giving him a kick in the ankle to get him moving towards the door.

 

“Not you,” Detective Tuesso says, pointing at Jyn.

 

“What?” Jyn cries. “But you just said--”

 

“We’re not arresting you,” Detective Andor says. “But Interim Chief Mothma would like to speak with you.  Alone,” he adds, when he sees Jyn and Bodhi exchange a look. 

 

Bodhi is about to object when he feels Jyn give his elbow a reassuring squeeze. He turns to look at her and she's smiling like she always does when faced with a challenge.  _ Go ahead _ , that smile is meant to say,  _ I've got this _ . 

 

“I think they're finally going to give me my giant novelty check,” she says before she breezes past him out the door. 

 

***

 

Twenty minutes later, Jyn finds Bodhi pacing on the steps outside the precinct.  The look on his face must be more anguished than he realized because when he turns and sees her, she immediately throws both of her hands up in a  _ don’t shoot  _ gesture.

 

“Alright, before you yell at me—”

 

“What in the absolute fuck did you just do?!” he shouts.

 

“I said before you yell at me, dude! Come on!” Jyn practically whines.  “And what I just did was save our asses, so you’re welcome.”

 

“You wouldn’t have had to save my ass in the first place if you had just driven yourself to the precinct and left me out of it.”

 

Jyn opens her mouth to argue with him, but Bodhi continues before she can get a word in.  “And, furthermore, you just lied. To the police. About being a psychic. I mean, have you lost your damn mind?!”

 

“Hey, say it a little louder, why don’t you?” Jyn shouts back, and Bodhi sobers. “Feel better now?” She asks, when she’s given him a moment to collect himself. When he nods, she says, “I can’t believe you just furthermore’d me, man. You’re starting to sound like your mother.”

 

“Shut up,” Bodhi says, without heat. Jyn cracks a smile, which he finds himself returning tentatively. “What did the chief want to talk to you about?”

 

“Interim chief,” Jyn corrects, and Bodhi rolls his eyes at her. “She’s pregnant.”

 

“She wanted to tell you she’s pregnant?”

 

“No. I’m just telling you.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because it’s badass,” Jyn says, gesticulating wildly. “A pregnant cop? How cool is that?”

 

“Jyn…”

 

“Sorry for trying to paint you a picture with my words, Bodhi! I thought maybe you felt left out!”

 

“I was deeply hurt,” Bodhi says, gravely. “Now, will you please tell me why you got called into a meeting with the chief of police?!”

 

“Interim chief! And she wants my help with a case,” Jyn says casually. She even has the audacity to shrug.

 

Bodhi’s pretty sure he’s actually gaping at her now. Like, his jaw is actually hanging open in shock. He’d be embarrassed, but he just doesn’t have the capacity for any other emotions at the moment. 

 

“Why?” He finally manages to ask, after an embarrassingly long pause.

 

“Haven’t you heard?” Jyn says with a mischievous smile. “I’m Santa Barbara’s most preeminent psychic detective!”

 

Bodhi groans and puts his head on Jyn’s shoulder. She pats at him in a halfhearted consoling gesture.

 

“Can you be the ‘most preeminent’ something? Does that work grammatically?” She asks, nonchalantly.

 

“Don’t you dare try to distract me with grammar, Jyn,” Bodhi warns. “This is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”

 

“I know for a fact you listened to all of R. Kelly’s ‘Trapped in a Closet’, so there’s no way that’s true.”

 

“It was before he got weird!”

 

“No, it wasn’t.”

 

“I don’t even know how you did that back there,” Bodhi cries, getting them back to the subject at hand.

 

“What?”

 

“All that stuff you said in the interrogation room! How did you do it?” 

 

“You know about my observation thing,” Jyn says, brow furrowing in confusion.

 

“Yeah, but that stuff with the detective. How did you know all that?”

 

Jyn sighs, as if explaining her skills is a huge burden. “I saw in the paper a few weeks ago that there’d been a shooting and the police had been involved.”

 

“They wouldn’t have published the officer’s name,” Bodhi interjects.

 

“No,” Jyn concedes. “But the officer at the front desk was asking about how the new guy was doing, being back from administrative leave. The cop he was talking to was the one who brought us into the interrogation room, so clearly he had been working with our detectives on the robbery case.  And most of the cops in the SBPD are still left over from my mom’s time there—at least the ones that are old enough to make detective—and I didn’t recognize Detective Andor, so I figured it could have been him. Standard administrative leave is two weeks, the shooting happened roughly that long ago, and I noticed the bags under his eyes, like he hadn’t been sleeping well. So, I took a stab in the dark. So to speak.”

 

“Jyn, all of that is totally circumstantial. What if you’d been wrong?” Bodhi says, even though he’s a little in awe of what he’s just heard.

 

“Luckily, I wasn’t,” Jyn says simply.

 

“What about all that stuff with the heart and the shapes and the letter?” Bodhi asks.

 

“Oh,” Jyn says, as if she’s already forgotten. “Our carjacker from the lobby had a tattoo on his ankle. One of those hearts that’s been shot through with an arrow. And it had the name ‘Susan’ wrapped around it, on a banner. Figured if Susan was his wife, she probably filed the charges against him and the letter would jog their memory if nothing else did.”

 

“This is unbelievable,” Bodhi says, shaking his head. “And what does the Chief want from you?”

 

“Interim chief. And she wants me to help them with a kidnapping case.”

 

“I’m a little nervous about the strength of our police force if they have to hire you to solve a kidnapping.”

 

“I know, right?” Jyn says. “Apparently, it’s the heir to some hoity-toity family’s fortune that’s gone missing. The family is close with the governor and Interim Chief Mothma is under a lot of pressure to solve this thing quickly.”

 

“They think this guy is still alive?”

 

“I guess so.”

 

“Huh,” Bodhi says. “Are they paying you?”

 

“In a manner of speaking.”

 

“So, that’s a no.”

 

“It’s more that they’re paying me by not arresting me,” Jyn says. “And only if I deliver.”

 

“And what happens if you don’t?” Bodhi asks, not totally convinced he wants to know the answer.

 

“They’ll arrest me for obstruction of justice,” Jyn says simply.

 

“Damn it, Jyn.”

 

“I don’t know why you’re so worried. This is like my two greatest strengths: observation and bullshitting. My whole life has been preparation for this!”

 

“Only you would see having to  _ prove to the police _ that you’re psychic by solving a high profile missing persons case as a fun challenge.  Do I need to remind you you’re not actually psychic, or are you at least still mildly self-aware?” Bodhi asks.

 

“Bodhi, don’t be an under-whipped meringue! I know what I’m doing!” Jyn says, and he has to admit, he can’t remember the last time she was this excited about anything. “Now, do you want to go interrogate some fancy white people with me, or not? I bet they own some Baroque art or whatever that you can nerd out about while I investigate.”

 

“Jyn, I can’t,” Bodhi says, and he thinks he sees Jyn’s face fall, just for a second, before she quickly hides her reaction. “I have to get back to office, I have a million calls to return. I can’t get involved with one of your crazy schemes today, I’ve lost enough time already.”

 

As soon as it’s out of his mouth, he knows it was the wrong thing to say. He and Jyn don’t fight, not really, and any spats they do have are over as quickly as they begin, usually because they start punching each other and get it out of their systems. What does happen occasionally, though, is that Jyn will shut him out—when she feels rejected in any way, or when she’s going through her own stuff that she doesn’t want to talk about. Bodhi sees the neutral mask that immediately goes over her features and he knows she’s upset by what he’s just said.

 

“Jyn—” he starts to say, reaching for her.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jyn interrupts, already looking around for her exit, instead of looking at him. “I’m gonna get a cab. I’ll talk to you later.”

 

As she passes by, she claps Bodhi on the shoulder and then she’s gone. 

 

***

 

Just like they don’t fight, he and Jyn also don’t apologize. It took some getting used to in the beginning for Bodhi, a naturally nervous person for whom apologizing—even when nothing is his fault—is just a reflex.  Jyn, on the other hand, never apologizes for anything. If the phrase “I’m sorry” comes out of her mouth, it’s always a transitional phrase at best, and sarcastic at worst. Over the years, Bodhi has warmed to Jyn’s way of dealing with things. On the rare occasions they do actually fight, Jyn will disappear for a few days and then resume contact as if nothing ever happened. She just needs time and space to get over herself sometimes.  And once she has, she doesn’t hold a grudge, at least not when it comes to him. Old issues don’t come back up in arguments years later with her, the way they do in Bodhi’s other relationships. It’s a fault he’ll readily admit he has as well, never letting old grievances go, so it’s probably just as well Jyn isn’t like that with him. Maybe, every once in a while, they actually do bring out the best in each other.

 

All of this is to say, when Bodhi doesn’t hear from Jyn for three days after their conversation outside of the police station, he’s not actually worried. It’s pretty standard behavior from her, and, even without their weird conflict, they don’t always talk everyday anyway. There’s the niggling concern in the back of his mind that she’s working on a case, and she could actually be in danger and that’s why he hasn’t heard from her, but it’s not enough to really drive him to distraction.

 

Still, his relief when he gets a call from her on that third day is immediate and a little overwhelming. It’s short-lived, however, when he hears how tired she sounds on the phone and when she asks, tentatively, if he’ll come pick her up because her bike broke down on some isolated back road. His keys are in his hand before he even hangs up and the next thing he knows he’s calling over his shoulder to the woman at the front desk that he’ll be out all afternoon with a family emergency.

 

It’s nearly forty minutes later that Bodhi actually finds her, because, while Jyn did her best to explain where she was, she is stranded on a truly deserted back road and there’s no landmarks nearby for reference. When he arrives, Jyn is still trying to get her bike to start, with no success. Her jeans are covered in mud, her hands are coated with black grease from working on the motorcycle, and Bodhi is pretty sure she hasn’t brushed her hair since he saw her last. She looks a complete mess, and worry bubbles up in Bodhi’s throat just seeing her.

 

He pulls over, throws the car in park, and gets out in something of a daze, but he can’t actually bring himself to say a word. Anything he says will betray his concern, and there’s nothing that raises Jyn’s hackles more than being fretted over. When she makes eye contact with him, he says, “You look great,” because he can’t come up with anything else and Jyn’s face breaks into a relieved smile.

 

“Yeah, well, you know what they say,” she responds, gesturing at herself with one hand. “Dress for the job you want.”

 

“You want to be Farmer Hoggett?”

 

“Danny Zuko, actually,” Jyn says, waving her motor oil-stained hands at him. She follows up the gesture with a heavy sigh, and all the energy seems to drain out of her at once.

 

“You’ve only been a fake psychic detective for three days, Jyn,” Bodhi jokes. “You can’t be tired of it already.”

 

“Watch me,” she says through a yawn. “And I may be a fake psychic, but I’m a real detective, thank you very much.”

 

“You have the bags under your eyes to prove it,” Bodhi says, the only way he can think of to bring up her disheveled state.

 

“Thanks, they’re vintage.”

 

“I thought so,” Bodhi replies, and then he decides they’ve goofed around enough, given the situation. “Seriously, Jyn, what happened? Are you hurt?”

 

“I’m fine,” she says, reflexively. “I hurt my knee when the bike crapped out, but that’s that worst of it. I just need a ride home, so I can change my clothes and keep working on the case.”

 

Bodhi wants to ask more questions, but he knows Jyn is probably frustrated enough as it is and she’ll probably be more inclined to talk once they’re on their way. 

 

“Okay,” he says, inclining his head towards his car. When Jyn starts to move towards him, he asks, “What are you going to do about your bike?”

 

“I got a guy coming to pick it up. He’ll bring it home for me,” Jyn says, as Bodhi holds open the passenger side door for her.

 

“You should bring it to a mechanic.”

 

“You should suck it,” Jyn counters. “I can fix my own bike.”

 

“Clearly,” Bodhi says, gesturing at the dejected looking motorcycle behind them. Jyn scowls at him from her seat as he closes the car door.

 

Once he’s back in the driver’s seat and they’re on their way back to Santa Barbara, Bodhi looks over at Jyn. Up close, she looks even more exhausted than he initially thought.

 

“When was the last time you slept?” He wonders aloud.

 

Jyn gives the appearance of thinking it over before saying, “When did we last see each other?”

 

“Three days ago.”

 

“Sometime before that, then.”

 

“Good grief,” Bodhi mutters. “How are you even alive right now?”

 

“I’m not. I’m a ghost. I’ve been a ghost this whole time,” Jyn says, drily.

 

“How dare I care about your well being,” he says, shaking his head bitterly.

 

For once, the guilt trip actually seems to have an effect on Jyn, because she sobers a little and says, “You’d be amazed what a great motivator the threat of jail time can be.”

 

“I honestly forgot all about that,” Bodhi says, keeping his eyes on the road.

 

“Really? You?”

 

“I guess I just had no doubt you’d solve the damn thing,” he replies, with a shrug. “You’re Jyn. You’ve never met a crazy situation you couldn’t get yourself out of.”

 

When he chances another look in her direction, she’s looking back at him with a serious expression. “Your faith in me is undeserved,” she says. “But appreciated.”

 

“Anything for you,” Bodhi says, and he means it. They’re always going to be there for each other; it’s what best friends are for.

 

They drive in companionable silence for a few minutes, and Bodhi wonders how he’s going to get her to tell him about the case. He doesn’t have long to worry about it, though, because the next thing he knows, he sees flashing lights in his rear view mirror and hears a siren blaring.

 

“Jyn,” Bodhi says warningly as he pulls over. “What did you do?”

 

When he looks over at her, however, she looks just as confused as Bodhi feels. This must be a surprise to her as well.

 

Still, Bodhi can’t help but add, “You better tell me now, so we can get our stories straight.”

 

“I have no idea what’s going on,” Jyn says, shrugging. She reaches over and gives his arm a squeeze, then adds, “But I’m glad to have you on my side.”

 

The cop who’s just pulled them over taps on the window, and Bodhi does his best not to jump. He rolls down the window.

 

“Good afternoon, officer. What can I do for you?” Bodhi asks, trying to sound casual and definitely failing.

 

“License and registration,” the cop says, and Bodhi hurries to oblige. He hands over the items, but the cop is looking at Jyn very intently.

 

“You look familiar,” he says to her.

 

“I was the model for the Morton’s Salt Girl,” Jyn says immediately, and Bodhi has to suppress the urge to smack her.

 

The officer looks up from Bodhi’s license when she speaks. “Hey, that’s it. You’re Lyra’s kid, aren’t you?” He asks, finally cracking a smile.

 

“Guilty as charged,” Jyn says with a rueful smile, and Bodhi has to resist the urge to smack her  _ again _ . He settles for glaring at her instead. 

 

“I worked with your mom for a long time, right up until she retired,” the officer says, his whole demeanor changed to one of friendliness. “How’s she doing?”

 

“Oh, you know. She’s in Miami. Livin la vida loca, and all that,” Jyn says, casually, as if she’s spoken to her mother mother recently, which Bodhi knows for a fact she hasn’t.

 

The officer, for his part, looks confused. “Is that so?” He asks. “Because I saw her at the Safeway just last month.”

 

“She was just visiting,” Jyn lies, automatically.

 

“She told me she was moving back to the old house,” the cop says.

 

“Well, you’re just remarkably well informed, aren’t you?” Jyn says, feigning sweetness.

 

“Uh, is there a problem here, officer?” Bodhi asks, trying to distract the cop from asking Jyn any more questions.

 

“One of your tail lights is out,” the officer says, turning his attention back to Bodhi reluctantly. “You need to get that fixed,” he adds, handing Bodhi back his license and registration.

 

“Absolutely, sir. I will. Right away,” Bodhi says eagerly.

 

The officer nods. “Alright, then. You two have a good rest of your day, now. And tell your mom Officer Macklin says hello,” he adds to Jyn.

 

“You got it,” Jyn says, already turning away from him.

 

The cop heads back to his own car and Bodhi pulls away carefully. It isn’t until the cop car is a tiny, retreating speck in the rear view mirror that Bodhi chances speaking to Jyn.

 

“Your mom is back in Santa Barbara?” He asks carefully.

 

“Apparently,” Jyn says with an unconvincing shrug. She’s looking down at her phone instead of meeting his eye. 

 

“You want me to bring you to her house instead?” Bodhi asks, looking back and forth between her and the road. 

 

“No need. Liverpool has a match today,” Jyn says, looking up from her phone. “And there’s only one bar in town that will put football on the TV. Take your next right.”

 

***

 

If anyone were to ask him, Bodhi would say he loves Jyn’s parents like they’re his own, but he’s also pretty glad that they’re not. Growing up, he spent a lot of time at Jyn’s house and he got to know Galen and Lyra Erso fairly well. He’d always been closer to Jyn’s dad, who was always interested in Bodhi’s school projects and honors classes. They had a lot of similar interests, which couldn’t be said of Bodhi and his father. Bodhi loves his dad, and he knows his dad loves him, but they don’t always have a lot to talk about. So it was nice to talk to Galen, every now and then, and imagine what it would be like.

 

Jyn, for her part, was always closer with her dad too, but, because his job had him traveling a lot, she spent a lot more time with her mother, whose odd hours as a cop meant she could be around for her kid more often than her husband could. Lyra is hard to describe; she’s not a particularly warm person, but she is undeniably generous and invested in others. That’s always been Bodhi’s experience, at least. For the longest time, he assumed Jyn’s mother hated him, as she never seemed happy to see him. It took time for him to realize that she showed affection more practically than that. She has never forgotten a single thing Bodhi has ever told her, he’s pretty sure, which is how she remembers things like his mom’s birthday and her favorite kind of flowers to send every year, and how, all through his high school years, she knew his top choice colleges—in order—by heart after he mentioned them to her once.  Much like he came around to Jyn’s unique personality, Bodhi eventually realized that Lyra’s intense questions and no-nonsense attitude were the product of her caring very deeply, rather than not caring at all. It was easier for him, though. She wasn’t his actual mother and if she ever got to be too much for him, he could just go home. Jyn didn’t have that option.

 

For as long as he can remember, Jyn and her mother have been like oil and water; they just do not mix. It would be easy to blame the animosity on Jyn’s parents’ divorce when she and Bodhi were in high school, but the conflicts between Jyn and Lyra were going on long before that. Jyn has always resented her mother for raising her basically from birth to become a cop, without taking her daughter’s personality or interests into account. When her parents separated, things only got worse, especially when her parents agreed, without consulting her, that she would live full time with her mother. From there, Jyn’s rebellious streak only got worse and as soon as she turned eighteen, she was out of her mother’s house.

 

About a year ago, Lyra retired early from the police force and moved all the way to Miami. Bodhi 

never expected Jyn to come back to Santa Barbara permanently, but if there was one thing that didn’t surprise him about her return, it was that she waited until her mother was gone to do so.  

 

But Lyra was back now too. The proof was right in front of them as they entered the pub. Jyn’s mother was sitting alone at a table near the bar with a full beer in front of her, her eyes on the television that was set to the football match.

 

Jyn makes an annoyed noise in the back of her throat, which brings Bodhi’s attention back to her. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

 

“Nothing, it’s just—” Jyn pauses to roll her eyes. “She’s such a cop, that’s all. I mean, she can see every possible exit from her seat. Does she ever take a day off?”

 

“She’s retired,” Bodhi points out.

 

“You can’t retire from being a pain in the ass.”

 

“That’s lovely, Jyn,” Bodhi says. “You ought to cross-stitch that on a pillow.”

 

“And you ought to suck it,” Jyn shoots back, pleasantly.

 

“No, I insist. You suck it,” he replies, and throws his arm out in an  _ after you _ gesture.

 

Jyn shakes her head at him. “Here we go,” she says, like she’s approaching an executioner, and not her mother.

 

As they cross from the door to where Jyn’s mother is sitting, something occurs to Bodhi. “Wait, what do I call her?” He asks suddenly.

 

“What are you talking about?” Jyn asks under her breath.

 

“I normally call her Mrs. Erso, but your parents are divorced now, yeah?”

 

“Funny story,” Jyn says, though the grim look on her face says otherwise. “They’re actually not.”

 

“Wait, what? It’s been, like, 10 years!”

 

“Believe me, I know.”

 

“So, what are they, if not divorced?” 

 

“ _ Hella _ estranged,” Jyn says with a shrug.

 

“Is that the legal term?” Bodhi asks, unamused.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Seriously, what do I call her, Jyn?”

 

“I don’t know, dude. Call her Deputy Dog, for all I care,” Jyn whisper-shouts at him. By then, they’ve reached her mother’s table, and Jyn says, “Hey, Mom!” as if she’s surprised to see her there. In her mother’s favorite pub. Where they specifically came looking for her.

 

“Jyn,” her mom says with a nod. Bodhi’s fairly certain she saw them come in. Hell, she might have spotted them before they got to the door. She’s that good. “Hello, Bodhi. How are you?” she says, turning her attention to him and offering her hand to shake.

 

“Hello, Mrs. Erso,” he responds. She has the strongest handshake of anyone he knows. It’s like she took a seminar or something. “It’s good to see you again.”

 

“Are you still working in pharmaceuticals?” she asks, taking a sip of her beer.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good for you. It’s nice to see some young people are able to hold down a job for more than six months.”

 

Jyn rolls her eyes at the obvious dig in her direction. Bodhi coughs to mask his discomfort and mumbles a response. 

 

“Bodhi would ask about how Miami is treating you, but, unfortunately, you’re not in Miami. You’re here,” Jyn says, her voice pitchy with annoyance.

 

“I didn’t care for Miami,” Lyra says simply. “Too humid. Too many nightclubs. I got bored.”

 

“And you didn’t think to tell me you were coming back because…?”

 

“You would have to call me on occasion to know anything about my life, dear,” Lyra says. “Or return my calls. But you don’t. Besides, if I had told you, I’m sure you would have scurried off to some new town to get away from me as soon as you found out.” When Jyn doesn’t say anything in response, Lyra asks, “Am I wrong?”

 

Jyn only shrugs in return. “I guess we’ll never know, will we?” She says, after a long pause.

 

“Indeed,” Lyra says, giving her daughter’s appearance an unimpressed glance. “What happened to you?” She asks.

 

Jyn looks down at her clothes, which are still covered in mud from earlier. “Oh, this? This is the fashion, Mom. All the kids are doing it.” When Lyra continues to look at her expectantly, Jyn relents and says, “My bike broke down on this muddy back road. I was trying to fix it, but Bodhi had to come get me.”

 

“I hate that stupid bike,” Lyra says. “You should get a reliable car. Like Bodhi has.”

 

“Bodhi has a company car, Mom,” Jyn says, exasperated. “And it looks like a blueberry.”

 

“Hey,” Bodhi interjects. “My car is nice.”

 

Jyn waves him off as her mother asks, “And you have nothing better to do on a weekday than drive around on your motorcycle? Do you even have a job?”

 

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Jyn says, as she pulls out the seat across from her mother and drops into it, “I happen to be working for the SBPD. On a case. And an important one at that!”

 

Bodhi doesn’t point out that the police aren’t paying her and that she’ll go to jail if she fails, mostly because he knows that Jyn just said it to get a reaction out of her mother. And she certainly gets it. Lyra’s face drops and she asks, astonished, “You? Working for the police?”

 

“Just like you always wanted,” Jyn says, leaning back in her seat triumphantly. 

 

“I wanted you to become a cop. A real police officer,” Lyra says sharply. “Am I right in assuming that’s not what happened?”

 

“I’m consulting,” Jyn says, which is being awfully generous, Bodhi thinks to himself.

 

“And why would they want  _ you  _ to consult on a case?”

 

“Because,” Jyn begins, and Bodhi can see her trying to figure out what to tell her mother that will be easier than the truth. She sighs, closing her eyes, bracing herself. “Because I told them I was psychic.”

 

Lyra blinks a few times, very quickly, but otherwise shows no signs of shock. “You did what now?” She finally asks.

 

“I’ve been calling in tips to the police, stuff I’ve noticed from the news or the paper, using the skills you taught me,” Jyn explains. “But the last time, I gave them my name, by accident. And they kind of thought I was responsible for the crime. I told them I was psychic so they wouldn’t arrest me.”

 

“And then they just hired you to work on a case?” Lyra asks, disbelieving. “No questions asked?”

 

“Basically,” Jyn says with a shrug. Once again, she conveniently leaves out the part where she’ll be arrested if she doesn’t solve the case, but Bodhi still thinks it’s better not to mention it. 

 

Lyra, for her part, seems to know Jyn isn’t telling her the whole story and she’s clearly weighing whether it’s worth interrogating her daughter further. “That department has really gone downhill since I left,” she says instead.

 

“Thanks, Mom.”

 

“So why are you here?”

 

“What do you mean?” Jyn asks. “I heard from Officer Macklemore—”

 

“Macklin,” Bodhi corrects.

 

“I’ve heard it both ways,” Jyn says to him, before looking back at her mother. “Anyway, I heard from Officer Macbook that you were back in town, and I came to confront you about it.”

 

“How is Macklin, anyway? Last time I saw him, his arthritis was acting up and giving him a lot of trouble,” Lyra says.

 

“How would I know anything about his arthritis?” Jyn asks impatiently. “All he said was to tell you hi from him.”

 

“Well, that’s very nice of him,” Lyra says pleasantly.

 

“Mom!”

 

“What, Jyn?” Lyra suddenly snaps. “You expect me to believe that you actually came here because you were  _ so upset _ that I hadn’t told you I was back in town. Do you think I’m stupid? I know you don’t care! So, you can either tell me what you really want from me, or we can keep talking about my old coworker’s joint problems. Either way suits me fine.”

 

The silence that follows Lyra’s outburst is excruciatingly awkward. Jyn has a look on her face that Bodhi has never seen before, and he’s pretty sure it’s because she’s about to burst into tears. In their time as friends, Bodhi has seen Jyn go through some shit, including some truly awful arguments with her mother, but he’s never once seen her cry. He has no idea what to do in this situation—will reaching out for her make it worse? Should they just leave? Before he can do anything, though, Jyn drops her head into her hands and sighs.

 

“I can’t figure it out,” she says, shakily. “I cannot figure this damn case out. I mean, I found the bodies and everything, but it still doesn’t make sense. The cops think it’s a murder-suicide, open and shut. But it doesn’t feel right and I can’t prove otherwise.”

 

Lyra is looking at Jyn intently, waiting for her to say more, but she doesn’t. She just sits there, head in hands, looking small and exhausted. After what feels like an eternity, Lyra speaks. “How many hats?” She asks quietly.

 

Jyn takes her hands away from her face to glare at her mother. “What?”

 

“How many hats are there in the room?” Lyra asks again, even more calmly.

 

“I heard you. I just can’t believe you want me to do this right now!”

 

“You’re out of practice, and you’ve gotten soft. That’s why you can’t solve the case,” Lyra suggests with a shrug. “Now, tell me how many hats.”

 

“Mom, this is a stupid game from when I was a kid. I’m not gonna—”

 

“If you can’t do it, just say so.”

 

“Ten,” Jyn says, not breaking eye contact.

 

“Go on, then. And don’t cheat.”

 

Jyn sighs, a deep, frustrated noise, and closes her eyes. “Four baseball caps on the guys at the bar,” she says. “The couple in the booth at the back are both wearing cowboy hats; his is leather, hers is straw. The family at the table in the corner have a baby in a sun hat and a boy in one of those rainbow beanies with the spinner on top, which I didn’t even know existed in real life, so that’s interesting. There’s a captain’s hat hanging on the wall with all of the other junk that counts as decor in this godforsaken place. And when we came in, the chef was out talking to the bartender and he was wearing a hat. I assume we were going from when we walked in, yeah?” Jyn asks smugly.

 

Lyra nods and smiles. “You missed one,” she says.

 

“No, I didn’t.”

 

“Yes, you did. The woman at the bar.”

 

Jyn doesn’t even look. “She’s wearing a visor. A visor isn’t a hat.”

 

“What is it, then?”

 

“Ugly,” Jyn says, simply. “And it’s red, because I know that’s what you’re going to ask next.”

 

“Not bad,” Lyra admits.

 

“I’m not out of practice,” Jyn says fiercely. “I’m as sharp as I’ve ever been.”

 

“You just needed to focus on something else, instead of the case,” Lyra says. “You were getting so bogged down in the particulars that you couldn’t think straight. Happened to me all the time, when I was on the force. I’ll bet your mind feels clearer now, doesn’t it?”

 

Jyn blinks at her mother in disbelief. “Were you actually being helpful just now?” She asks.

 

“Believe it or not, I’m  _ usually  _ trying to help you, Jyn. Even when you think I’m not.”

 

Jyn looks at her mother for a long moment, her brow furrowed in concentration. Suddenly, she slaps her palm on the table and turns to Bodhi. “I need you to bring me to the police station,” she says, urgently.

 

“Did you figure it out?” He asks.

 

“No, but I’m going to. I just need to look at the case file again.”

 

“How are you going to do that?”

 

“I know a guy,” Jyn says vaguely.

 

“Alright. Do you want to go home and change first?” Bodhi asks, gesturing at her still-muddy clothing.

 

“What? No! Honestly, I think I might be onto something. This is a Look, right here,” Jyn says, standing up.

 

“If you say so,” Bodhi says, as she starts pulling him towards the door.

 

They don’t make it far, however, before Jyn stops suddenly. She turns halfway back to her mother, looking completely lost. A moment of deliberation passes before Jyn says, “Thanks, Mom.”

 

Lyra looks up at her daughter and surprise flashes across her face, briefly. She raises her beer in salute and Jyn smiles. 

 

“To the blueberry!” She shouts at Bodhi, and links their arms together.

 

“We’re not calling it that,” he says, only to be ignored. “Jyn, I’m serious!”

 

Jyn pushes the door open and drags him out into the night, still paying his complaints no mind.

 

***

 

“Sorry, I’m still not clear on why he’d be willing to help us,” Bodhi says, keeping his voice low so as not to attract any further notice from the other cops at the precinct.

 

“Quid pro quo,” Jyn says, kicking her feet up on the desk in front of her. “I helped him, he’ll help me.”

 

“He said that?”

 

“His eyes did.”

 

“What did his mouth say?” Bodhi asks, suppressing an eye roll.

 

“I don’t know. I wasn’t listening. I was too busy staring longingly into his eyes.”

 

“You’re ridiculous,” he says, shaking his head. “How exactly did you help him?”

 

“I solved that stupid armed robbery case for him,” Jyn says.

 

“You did?” Bodhi asks. “That’s amazing. Doesn’t that mean they can’t arrest you for it now?”

 

“They can’t arrest me for that, but they can arrest me for obstruction still.”

 

“Damn. So who was the guy’s partner?”

 

“Ah, that’s the thing,” Jyn says, relishing her Poirot moment a little too much. “He didn’t have one.”

 

“What?”

 

“He made it up, to get the immunity deal. Created this whole shadowy figure who masterminded all the robberies to stall the police and he took a gamble that they’d believe him. It was complete bullshit.”

 

“How did you figure that out?” Bodhi asks, astonished.

 

“Miss Erso is extremely well-versed in the art of bullshit,” a voice says from behind him. He turns to see Detective Andor approaching them with a cup of coffee in his hand.

 

“Oh, Detective. I’ve asked you to call me Jyn, and I meant it,” Jyn says, her face lighting up with mischief.

 

“And I’ve never asked you for anything, so I don’t really understand what you’re doing here,” he shoots back. “And with your feet on my desk, no less!”

 

Jyn swings her feet off the desk and onto the floor in one graceful motion. “You need to lighten up, Detective, or you’re gonna go gray prematurely,” she says. “Then again, you’d look distinguished, so maybe it’s worth it.”

 

“What can I do for you, Miss Erso?” He asks, looking tired.

 

“Jyn. And I need to see the file for the McCallum case.”

 

“Can’t you see it with your third eye?”

 

“Would you look at that?” Jyn says to Bodhi, gesturing at Detective Andor. “He’s handsome  _ and  _ funny! If he has a good job, I’m putting a ring on it.”

 

Bodhi is about to roll his eyes at Jyn’s antics, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees Detective Andor crack a smile. Maybe Jyn’s antics aren’t as unwelcome as he thought after all.

 

“As flattered as I am, how do you know I’m not spoken for?” Detective Andor asks.

 

“I saw it with my third eye,” Jyn says, and he laughs.

 

“Mm. Good one. No, really. Do your,” he gestures at her with his coffee mug, “psychic thing. On me.”

 

Jyn’s eyebrows shoot up at that and Bodhi can see her resisting the urge to turn the detective’s statement into a dirty joke. “I don’t have to,” she says, finally.

 

“Sorry?”

 

“I don’t have to ‘do my psychic thing’,” Jyn says, using air quotes. “Anyone with eyes could see that you're single.”

 

“Is that so?”

 

“Yeah. First of all, you’re a cop, just like my mother. It didn’t help her in the romance department, either,” Jyn says, like she’s letting him in on a secret. “You lot work all the time, hence the bags under your eyes and the fact that you’re here right now, on a Friday night.”

 

“I could be leaving,” he suggests.

 

“You have coffee. At 8 PM.”

 

“Could be decaf.”

 

“It isn’t,” Jyn says with certainty. “You’re about to pull an all nighter to work on a case. And then you’ll eventually go home to your lonely bachelor pad and eat a meal for one you picked up in the freezer section because you’re ‘too busy’ to cook for yourself. How am I doing?”

 

“You’re close,” Detective Andor says, trying to be evasive. “But I could have a spouse who’s okay with me working Friday nights.”

 

“You could,” Jyn allows. “But you also don’t wear a ring.”

 

“Maybe I just don’t wear it at work.”

 

“That’s a possibility. But I don’t think so.” Jyn pauses for a second, watching the detective. “Come on, how’d I do?”

 

“Devastatingly accurate,” Detective Andor concedes. “Except for one part.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“I’m a really good cook,” he says, sitting on his desk in the spot recently vacated by Jyn’s feet. She smiles up at him, delighted, and Bodhi’s pretty sure if he doesn’t do something they could be here all night. He clears his throat awkwardly.

 

Both of them startle, like they’d forgotten about him entirely. Detective Andor takes a sip of his coffee and places the mug on the desk. “What do you need the file for?” He asks, not quite looking at Jyn.

 

“Sometimes I do get random visions,” Jyn lies with ease. “But most of the time, my gift requires inspiration. I’m hoping something in the file will trigger it.”

 

“That case is basically wrapped up, though. I heard it was a murder-suicide between the McCallum kid and the guy he hired to fake his kidnapping,” Detective Andor says.

 

“I’m not convinced,” Jyn says seriously.

 

“Hey, from what I hear, they wouldn’t have found that cabin without you,” Detective Andor says, adopting a soothing tone. “Your work here is done. Don’t overthink it.”

 

“I’m thinking it just the right amount, thank you,” she replies. Detective Andor looks as if he is about to say something else, so she adds, quickly, “You have two options here, as I see it. You can get me that file now, or you can spend the whole night talking in circles with me, finishing none of your own work, and  _ then _ you can get me the file.”

 

“Sounds like I’m getting you the file either way.”

 

“It’s just a matter of whether you have your dignity intact when you do,” Jyn says, throwing in a shrug for good measure. “Choose your own adventure, Detective,” 

 

Detective Andor makes a big show of looking around, and then stands up. “I’ll be right back,” he says, needlessly, and walks away.

 

Jyn and Bodhi watch him go in silence for a few seconds, before Bodhi asks, “What’s going on there?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You’re flirting with cops now?”

 

“I was not flirting with him,” Jyn says, scandalized.

 

“Jyn, please.”

 

“I wasn’t,” she says, and she actually stamps her foot, like a child. “I can’t stand cops, you know that.”

 

“Right. You can’t stand that guy. You can’t stand him so much you just spent ten minutes pestering him about his marital status,” Bodhi says, unimpressed.

 

“He asked me to!” 

 

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. He can’t stand you either. He can’t stand the idea of making you dinner in his tiny, sad apartment and he can’t stand the idea of having beautiful, hyper-observant children with you someday.”

 

“Bodhi,” Jyn says, slapping at him ineffectually. She’s laughing too hard to do so accurately.

 

“It’s one thing to seduce and abandon half the food service professionals in Santa Barbara, Jyn, but please don’t start sleeping with cops and never calling them again. My heart can’t take it,” Bodhi says, only half joking.

 

“I’m not gonna sleep with him,” Jyn replies, looking offended.

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“I’m not! Jesus!”

 

“You, Jyn Erso, are a bisexual menace to society,” he says gravely.

 

“I’m a bisexual philanthropist, thank you very much, and you, Bodhi Rook, can suck it,” she shoots back easily and lands a solid slap on his arm.

 

They’re still scuffling like that when Detective Andor returns and drops a file on the desk in front of Jyn. Her face lights up and she tears into the folder with enthusiasm. In addition to Jyn’s many other gifts, she’s also a very fast reader, so she makes short work of scanning through the entire file on the McCallum case. She flops back in the chair once she’s done with the last page, and Bodhi is pretty sure that’s not a good sign.

 

“Nothing?” He asks.

 

“Nothing,” Jyn confirms. She rubs her eyes. “I don’t even know what I’m looking for. It’s just that...something doesn’t feel right.”

 

“How so?” Detective Andor asks.

 

“It’s just a vibe I have.”

 

“This is some sort of psychic thing? Vibes?”

 

“You don’t get vibes? I thought everybody got those,” Jyn says.

 

“I’ve always thought of it more as intuition,” Detective Andor says with a shrug. “It’s not really a spiritual thing.”

 

“Well, the spirits are telling me there’s more to this case than meets the eye.”

 

“Your spirits can’t be more specific?”

 

“Apparently not,” Jyn says, closing the case file with more force than is really necessary. She tosses it gently back to Detective Andor. “Thanks, anyway.”

 

“Look, if you don’t mind me saying so, this could all be in your head,” he says. When Jyn gives him an annoyed look, he continues, “Hear me out. This probably isn’t the way you saw this case shaking out. Maybe it’s not that you missed something, or that there’s some cosmic imbalance afoot. Maybe you’re just disappointed. But that’s the work. You’ll have to get used to it if you want to keep doing this.”

 

“Keep doing what?”

 

“Consulting. You lead us right to the bodies. It might not be the way anyone wanted the case to end up, but you helped solve it. I wouldn’t be surprised if Interim Chief Mothma wanted to use you again.”

 

Jyn shakes her head. “You know what I still can’t wrap my head around?” She asks, rather than address what Detective Andor has said.

 

“How to accept a compliment?” Detective Andor suggests.

 

“Technically, everything you just said was a fact. None of it was actual praise,” Jyn says. Detective Andor gives her a half-smile and motions for her to continue. “What I don’t understand is why everyone thought this McCallum kid had finally turned his life around. From what I hear, this wasn’t his first try at it. He’d screwed it up before. And you even have a report in there of an incident between him and his father that got so heated the neighbors called the cops to intervene. Why was everyone in that family so surprised that this guy was still up to his old bullshit?”

 

“People can change,” Detective Andor says simply.

 

“You don’t honestly believe that, do you?” Jyn asks. When he just shrugs in response, she says, “But you’re a cop!”

 

“And I wouldn’t be one if I didn’t think this work could make a difference in someone’s life,” he says. “The McCallums didn’t think their son had changed. They hoped he had.”

 

“Lot of good that did them.”

 

“Better than the alternative, right? I’d rather hope for the best, than anticipate the worst all the time.”

 

“That’s a terrible way for a cop to think!”

 

“I didn’t say that’s the way I actually think,” he says. “Just that it’s how I would rather think.”

 

“You’re full of shit,” Jyn says, but she looks amused. Fond, even.

 

“See if I ever help you again,” Detective Andor says, gesturing at her with the case file. “I’m going to put this back before someone misses it,” he adds, and takes off, leaving Jyn and Bodhi alone again.

 

“That was a very tender moment between you two. I’m glad I got to be here for it,” Bodhi says, for lack of anything better to contribute.

 

Jyn snorts. “Shut up,” she says, but the expression on her face says her thoughts are still far off.

 

“Did it help?” Bodhi asks, nudging her with his foot.

 

“What?” Jyn says, turning her attention to him.

 

“Anything Detective Andor just said.”

 

“Oh, no.” Jyn responds, then winces. “I mean, it’s not bad advice, but I just can’t get over this feeling that I’m missing something. I just don’t believe it, you know? That this rich kid botched his own kidnapping so badly that his dirtbag partner turned on him, killed him, and then killed himself because he couldn’t live with the guilt. Oh, and speaking of guilt, this kid’s strict father felt so badly about his son’s disappearance that he apparently tried to kill himself too? Even though he tried to write his son out of his will for being a fuck up? Like, none of it adds up. It doesn’t feel right at all.”

 

“Wait, what happened with his father?”

 

“He had this will drawn up—”

 

“No, you told me about that. You didn’t mention his suicide attempt.”

 

“Oh, well, I don’t know that for sure,” Jyn says. “When I visited the McCallum house, Mr. McCallum had a bandage on his wrist and he got antsy when I asked him about it. But I overheard some of the help talking and they were saying he tried to kill himself after his son disappeared.”

 

“So that’s all speculation,” Bodhi says. 

 

“Well, yeah.”

 

“But you don’t believe it?”

 

“I mean, it could be anything, really. I tried to look through their medicine cabinets to see if I saw anything that would suggest what kind of injury it was, but it was mostly generic stuff, like ibuprofen and allergy medicine. The only name I didn’t recognize was Zin...Zinfandel?”

 

“That’s a wine, Jyn.”

 

“Damn it. Uh, Zin… zinacef? Is that something?”

 

“Yeah. Zinacef is a brand name for cefuroxime. It’s an antibiotic.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah, for people who are allergic to penicillin.”

 

“And why would they prescribe it?”

 

“Like most antibiotics, to treat an infection,” Bodhi says. “And if he had an injury to his wrist, it’s probably because the doctor was worried that the source of the cut could have infected him.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Like, if he cut himself on, I don’t know, a rusted nail or something. Although you’d be more worried about Tetanus in that situation. Maybe an animal bite? Like a cat or a—”

 

“A dog?” Jyn suggests, interrupting him. Her eyes are wide and she’s leaning forward in her seat.

 

“Sure,” Bodhi says, shrugging. “Why? Does that mean something?”

 

“Yeah, it does! McCallum Jr.’s friend who helped him fake the kidnapping had a dog. I saw it at the cabin. It all makes sense now!” Jyn practically shouts.

 

“It does?”

 

“Yes! Bodhi, you’re a genius!” She says, grabbing his face in both her hands.

 

“I am?” Bodhi says. 

 

“Yes, you are!”

 

“That’s nice. But please don’t kiss me. Your cop boyfriend is coming back and I don’t want him to tase me in a jealous rage.”

 

Jyn lets him go. “I wasn’t going to kiss you, and Detective Andor is definitely not going to tase you,” she says, rolling her eyes.

 

“I notice you didn’t deny that he was your boyfriend, though.”

 

“You’re a child!”

 

“Takes one to know one!” Bodhi shoots back. Jyn reaches out as if to slap him, but he quickly says, “Look alive, he’s on his way over.”

 

“Shit, I gotta make up a vision,” Jyn says. “This fake psychic thing is way harder than it looks on TV.”

 

“Yeah, we all feel real sorry for you.”

 

Jyn glares at him in response as she raises her hand to her forehead in what’s becoming her default faking-a-vision pose. “Help me out,” she says, under her breath, as Detective Andor reappears.

 

“Oh, Detective Andor, thank goodness you’re back,” Bodhi says, hoping he sounds genuine. He’s doesn’t consider himself to be the world’s best liar. “I think she’s having a vision.”

 

Detective Andor, for his part, still looks utterly bewildered by the whole thing, so it’s Jyn who actually has to speak up. “I’ve seen our killer,” she says, completely serious.

 

“You’ve seen their face?” Detective Andor asks.

 

“No, their wrist,” Jyn replies.

 

“Their wrist? What good does that do us?”

 

“I can see it so clearly now,” Jyn says, covering her forehead with her hands. “They found McCallum in his cabin hideout. They figured out the kidnapping was staged before we did and they went to confront him about it. There was a scuffle, between McCallum and our killer. It was an accident, they didn’t mean to kill him, it just happened!”

 

As Jyn speaks, she keeps her eyes closed, as if she’s actually watching this all happen behind her eyelids. Bodhi can’t help but be impressed. She’s very convincing. For all the trouble it’s caused them, maybe this fake psychic thing is truly her calling. It’s such a ridiculous idea that he’s honestly surprised it didn’t occur to her sooner.

 

“After McCallum died, his partner came back to the cabin with his dog to find the killer still there. Our killer shoots him and stages it to look like a suicide, effectively pinning McCallum’s death on him instead, but not before the dog bites them and gets a piece of their wrist.” Jyn suddenly opens her eyes and sits back, her face clear of the anguish of her “vision”. She looks at Detective Andor and asks, “Do you know anyone with a mysterious wrist injury?”

 

Detective Andor blinks at her in disbelief for a few seconds before realization dawns. Then, he quickly reaches for his keys on the desk. “We have to get to the McCallum residence. I’ll call for backup on the way,” he says, and he’s already heading for the exit.

 

“Are we supposed to follow you?” Jyn shouts after him.

 

“Yes, let’s go.”

 

“Alright,” Jyn says, standing up and smacking Bodhi on the knee. “You heard the man. Let’s go catch a murderer.”

 

“Today has been the weirdest day of my life,” Bodhi says, shaking his head but following after Jyn anyway.

 

“And it’s not even over yet,” Jyn says with excitement. She loops their arms together once more as they leave the precinct.

 

***

 

There’s a light drizzle falling from the sky as Bodhi stands on the front yard of the McCallum residence. Just like Jyn said at the beginning of the case, the house is beautiful and large and absolutely full to the brim with great art and other things that Bodhi would normally nerd out about. Standing there, though, on a rainy Friday night, surrounded by cop cars whose lights are making the whole place glow red and then blue on a constant loop, Bodhi can’t honestly enjoy himself too much.

 

Mr. McCallum Sr. had been put into a car by an astonished looking Detective Tuesso nearly twenty minutes ago, after admitting to killing his son and his accomplice. The rest of the cops on the scene are still inside taking statements from the other people in the house and getting other relevant details so that they can finally close the case. The atmosphere in there became too much for Bodhi eventually and he excused himself to wait for Jyn outside.

 

When she finally finds him, he’s looking up at the sky for no particular reason other than the flashing lights from the cars are starting to hurt his eyes.

 

“You look very emo,” Jyn says, taking in his pose as she approaches. 

 

“You just solved a murder,” Bodhi replies.

 

“Yeah,” she says, with no small amount of pride in her voice.

 

“That guy killed his own son.”

 

“Yeah,” Jyn says, this time sounding somber. 

 

“That’s…” Bodhi starts to say, but he can’t really find the words. “That’s a lot,” he finally settles on, even though it’s nonsense. Jyn will understand, he thinks.

 

She, of course, nods in response, before also looking up at the sky. “It is. A whole fucking lot,” she says, and he’s glad she gets it.

 

They stand there in silence for a moment, just listening to the rainfall and the buzz of activity coming from the house behind them. It feels like the first time in hours he’s actually relaxed, ever since he got that call from Jyn this afternoon. He can’t even imagine how she feels.

 

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” Jyn says, suddenly. Bodhi looks over at her only to find her already looking at him.

 

“Yeah, you could’ve,” he says.

 

Jyn shakes her head. “No. You saved the day.”

 

“We’re a good team,” Bodhi responds, trying to deflect her praise.

 

“That we are,” she agrees. “But I’ve always known that.”

 

“Yeah, no surprise there.”

 

At that moment, another police car pulls up and a few people get out. One of them, a woman, spots Jyn and walks in her direction.

 

“Miss Erso,” the woman calls as she approaches.

 

“Interim Chief Mothma,” Jyn greets her in return. “Good to see you again.”

 

“I believe we have you to thank for solving this case,” the Chief says.

 

“Oh, well, I suppose,” Jyn says. “But I had lots of help.”

 

Interim Chief Mothma’s eyebrows raise in surprise at that. “You did?” She asks.

 

“From the spirits, of course,” Jyn says, gesturing vaguely upwards.

 

“Of course,” the Chief echoes. “Well, thank you for your assistance,” she says, offering her hand to Jyn.

 

“Happy to help,” Jyn replies, shaking the other woman’s hand

 

“Oh, that reminds me,” Interim Chief Mothma says. “I spoke to your mother on the phone earlier.”

 

“You did?”

 

“Yes. As she’s a former member of the department, I wanted to get her take on your value as a consultant and ask her about your abilities. I have to say, you two need to get your stories straight.”

 

“We do?” Jyn says, and Bodhi can hear the nervousness in her voice. As for himself, he’s pretty sure he’s having a heart attack.

 

“Yes, you do. Your mother says that your gift didn’t present itself until you were eleven, but when you and I spoke the other day, you said you’d had your psychic abilities since birth,” the Chief says.

 

“That’s my mother for you,” Jyn says, easily, even though Bodhi can still see the tension in her shoulders. “She always has to undermine me! Just because she didn’t notice my abilities before I was eleven, doesn’t mean I didn’t have them. I’ve told her this a thousand times!”

 

“Well, I appreciated her insight,” Interim Chief Mothma says. “And I appreciate your work on this case.”

 

“Thank you, but I couldn’t have done it without Bodhi,” Jyn says, gesturing at him. “My chauffeur,” Jyn elaborates, for the Chief’s benefit.

 

“Ah, of course,” she says, looking bemused. She shakes Bodhi’s hand anyway, which gives him something to do besides elbow Jyn in the ribs. “Thank you both.”

 

One of the officers calls for her then, and Interim Chief Mothma leaves them with a wave. Jyn and Bodhi look after her for a few seconds before Jyn says, “That was close.”

 

Bodhi lets out a breath of relief. “No kidding,” he says. “I cannot take anymore stress today. I just can’t.”

 

“Okay, buddy. Let’s get you home,” Jyn says, patting his shoulder.

 

“We can leave?”

 

“Yeah, whenever we want. The cops are done with me for now.”

 

“Awesome,” Bodhi says, before he remembers the problem. “But my car is still at the precinct.”

 

“Oh, yeah. Cassian said he’d bring us back when we were ready.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Detective Andor.”

 

“You called him ‘Cassian.’”

 

“Did you think his first name was Detective?” Jyn asks, rolling her eyes at him.

 

“You’re on a first name basis with him now?” Bodhi asks, unable to help himself.

 

“Relax. It’s no big deal,” Jyn says, crossing her arms over her chest. “You can call him that too.”

 

“I should hope so. He’s going to be my best friend-in-law someday.”

 

“I hate you,” Jyn says, but she’s smiling a little. “I’m going to go find Cassian and ask him to take me back to the precinct. And I’m gonna leave you here. You can walk home, for all I care.”

 

“If you want some alone time with your boyfriend, all you have to do is ask,” Bodhi replies. Jyn flips him off, which is all the encouragement he needs. “You two, alone in a police cruiser. Very romantic.”

 

“Don’t give me ideas, Bodhi Rook,” she says, and then she turns on her heel and heads back towards the house.

 

Smiling to himself, Bodhi follows her.

 

***

 

Unsurprisingly, Bodhi doesn’t hear from Jyn for a few days after the McCallum case wraps up. He assumes she’s catching up on all the sleep she missed while she was working the case, an old habit of hers he remembers from when they were in high school. She would always wait until the last minute on projects, pull all-nighters to finish them, and then sleep for days afterwards. For all solving murders and writing research papers are completely different, Bodhi thinks that Jyn’s method of recovering is probably the same for both.

 

Given the amount of emotional upheaval she went through, Bodhi actually figures it will take longer for Jyn to recover after this, but it’s only Monday when he receives a text from her asking him to meet her that afternoon when he’s done at work.

 

_ Sure. At your place?  _ He replies immediately.

 

**_No. I’ll text you the address_ ** **.** Her reply comes twenty minutes later.

 

_ Why are we meeting at a mystery location? _

 

**_I have something I need to show you!_ **

 

_ You’re making me nervous… _

 

**_You’re always nervous. See you at 4:30._ **

 

Jyn actually remembers to text him the address about ten minutes before he’s planning on leaving the office, and the map on his phone shows that it’s right by the water, but there’s no businesses listed there. Whatever Jyn is trying to do, it’s going to be a surprise, despite Bodhi’s best efforts. He sighs, before gathering his things and heading out for the night.

 

It’s a short ride from his office to the address Jyn sent him and he finds himself pulling into the small parking lot of a tiny, one story office building that faces the beach. He recognizes the only other vehicle in the lot as Jyn’s motorcycle, so this must be the place. There’s a wide window on the front of the only office housed in the building and, when Bodhi gets out of his car, he sees that there’s a sign painted on the glass that reads, “PSYCH” in big letters and, underneath that in a smaller script, it says, “private psychic detective.” 

 

“Oh, no,” he says to himself, before pulling open the door.

 

“Bodhi,” Jyn greets him cheerfully when he enters the room.

 

“Are you out of your mind?”

 

“Depends on who you ask,” she says. “Why? What did I do?”

 

“You rented office space, for your psychic detective agency! Which is a career you’ve had for less than a week! And, by the way, you’re not actually psychic!”

 

“Oh, that,” she says, waving a hand at him, as though his are petty concerns.

 

“You’re not actually naming it that, are you?” Bodhi asks.

 

“No, Bodhi. I just paid them to hand paint it on the window because I’m a patron of the arts with money to burn.”

 

“You can’t call it that,” Bodhi says, ignoring Jyn’s joke and changing tactics.

 

“Why not?

 

“Psych?” He says, hoping hearing it aloud will make her understand. When she just looks at him blankly, he adds, “As in ‘Gotcha!’”

 

“No. Psych, as in psychic,” Jyn says, throwing in some jazz hands for good measure.

 

“It doesn’t read that way.”

 

“Oh, whatever.”

 

“Actually, I have a great idea,” Bodhi says, rubbing his forehead. “What if you called it, ‘Hey, We’re Fooling You and the Police, Hope We Don’t Make a Mistake and Someone Dies Because of It.’”

 

“As catchy as that is, I think that would take up too much space on the window,” Jyn says seriously. “It would interrupt our ocean view and you have no idea how much that cost me.”

 

“Speaking of which, how did you even get this place? I know your credit score is terrible.”

 

“True. But yours isn’t.”

 

“Mine?” Bodhi asks. “What does my credit score have to do with it?”

 

“You co-signed the lease with me.”

 

“Funny, I don’t remember doing that.”

 

“Well, you’re a busy man. I didn’t want to bug you with the trivial details, so I signed for you,” Jyn says innocently.

 

“Jyn!”

 

“It’s not my fault that your signature is easy to forge!”

 

“That’s not even remotely the problem here,” Bodhi says, his annoyance clear in his voice. “What real estate agent would allow this?”

 

“A really terrible one.”

 

Bodhi groans and covers his face with his hands. Jyn crosses the room to pat him consolingly on the shoulder. 

 

“Hey, lighten up. This is gonna be fun! You and me, solving crimes together,” she says.

 

That’s enough to pull Bodhi out of his despair and he gives Jyn a disbelieving look. “Jyn, what are you talking about? I already have a full-time job,” he says.

 

“Oh, believe me, I know. You’re always talking about it, with your steady paycheck and your dental plan and your 411K,” Jyn says bitterly.

 

“It’s a four-OH-one-K, Jyn.”

 

“I’ve heard it both ways.”

 

“I’m not leaving my job,” Bodhi says firmly and he sees Jyn’s face fall. “But, I can help you with cases in my spare time, if you’d like.”

 

“I would like,” Jyn says, smiling. “I would like very much.”

 

“Good. Partners?” He says, offering his fist for her to bump, which she does.

 

“Partners. Of course,” Jyn says, and the two of them enjoy approximately thirty seconds of peace before a noise outside catches Jyn’s attention.

 

“Okay, look alive,” she says, smoothing out her shirt. “Our 5 o’clock is here.”

 

“What?!” Bodhi asks, shocked. “You have a client already?”

 

“We gotta keep the lights on somehow,” Jyn replies.

 

“The Jyn I know has never paid an electricity bill on time in her life,” he says, eyeing her suspiciously.

 

“Well, maybe I’m turning over a new leaf,” Jyn says with a small smile, which Bodhi returns easily. If she’s really serious about this, he’s not going to stand in her way.

 

“I’m proud of you,” he says, pointing a finger at her emphatically.

 

She points back at him. “Thank you.”

 

At that moment, a young woman comes through the door, looking around cautiously. “Is this the psychic detective agency?” She asks.

 

“Yes, it is,” Jyn says. “And I’m the psychic detective, Jyn Erso.”

 

“Wow,” the young woman says, completely dazzled. She looks at Bodhi then, clearly confused as to his role. 

 

Jyn, for her part, doesn’t miss a beat. “Allow me to introduce my associate, Burton Guster.”

 

Bodhi doesn’t bother correcting her, giving a small wave instead. This is his life now, after all.

  
  



End file.
